Preserving Brilliance
by Ultimagu
Summary: What if time unwound itself to form a different history? AU
1. Prolouge

Ender Wiggin had at one point or another, certainly nearing the ending days of his 'game' simulations with his jeesh, that he was nothing but a weapon. The sort of weapon, another man had grown, another man had shaped, and another man wielded to stop his own suffering and fear.

Perhaps...that was too harsh of the idea at how Ender had been used, for there is no other way of putting it, even to the dimmest at Battle School. Perhaps...Ender had, if even being used, had been used truly for the good of mankind. If only, for the good of mankind. Feeling a sense of love for a being not human...and much less the Formics...was_inhumane_. But perhaps again, you could consider the little Ender that...who had commanded armies, who had commanded generals in their own right, who had killed three humans...and sadly billions not...it was that _inhumanity_ that made Ender love all.

Ender just had a way...of changing people. Of seeing good and evil on equal terms. For he had even described himself in such a manner using his own siblings as examples. There was a Peter to every person, and a Valentine to every person. It was perhaps..._the_ changing moment in history to be written, to be known, to be recited as truth.

Time can be described as a length of rope, in which every little aspect is a thread pulling through and winding around and around as they continue on, create new threads, and die off into the rope. When you see rope though...the longer it has been left to sit, eventually it begins to unwind. Little things...a vase placed somewhere else in the house. A man tripped down the third step instead of the fourth. But a saying goes, "A butterfly flaps its wings in China, and it rains in London." Little things, have far reaching aspects as it ripples across time's liquid surface.

So as such and so forth, and whatever you can describe, 3,000 years of history...unwinds, uncoils, sprays itself out in a never ending sea of the tiniest threads all back to a certain moment, to a certain time frame where they were once wound. Time, like Life, is a constant changing itself. Like Life, Time will continue on. Like Life, Time will trudge through the deepest ravines, over the oxygen less air of mountains, across and under the blue expanse of the seas. Like Life, Time can and will change its constant, to something it just feels was better.

How time decides to move is a complete mystery to man. Many idea have risen about the curvature of space, the curvature of light, the event horizon. All in all, time is an ebb and flow, and if it were to change can we even be sure we'd notice? Or would we simply fade from existence?

So many questions arise about time. It is a fundamental of the universe, for it can be broken down into terms of nothing else, but it is one of the least understood parts of our Universe.

So without any further to do, to say, or to recite from poetic memory, let me describe to you like a story of old, when time did not change a tiny almost insignificant ripple...it plucked up a boulder from beneath its depths, switched it for another, and hurled it back down, creating different ripples than those once...but now never really viewed.


	2. Sailor

Ender lay in darkness. No...he lay in darkness of the vast darkness. Where direction was everything and nothing. Like an old sailor of the blue seas he was instead drifting in the vast wades and tides of the vast black nothingness sea. For a few weeks now, shots had been fired back and forth between sides. The Russians on one hand, the Hegemony on the other...and he had heard that within this very asteroid...the battle was faring for neither. All of the bloodshed, was determining his future. And he dreamed at nights often what it would be like to fight for his own future.

His companionable silence drifted back into ringing and clanging, of shouting and charging, of blood and dieing, dieing and dieing...dieing and dieing. It meant only one thing, the temporary truce had been broken again as their homelands back on Earth had hit heads once again in silently dispelling the argument.

So many shots fired, so many grunts, moans, cries, and sometimes the odd begging. It filled the hours between the fake day, and the fake night. And Ender heard it all. In his mind, he would have been troubled when he heard the shots getting closer, and grunts and moans becoming louder, but by now he was empty for the time being. A basin which had poured out its rare liquid to replenish the hope and strength of man. And it would take time and recuperation to fill it back up.

However, the voices drifted back, drifted into silence. The trenched lines resetting themselves. He wondered, if he walked between the firing lines and hallways, would they stop and revere him...or would they shoot and dispose of him. A risk he neither cared about, nor thought about for long. Victorious shouts were blown over by an explosion outside the asteroid and this time Ender shot up out of his bed. The only explosion could be a ship...and if it had been a ship...official war had been declared. The world not a month into its new era of peace and tranquility, had split itself in half in Civil World War. Beautiful...absolutely magnificent.

In reality...one could say he was of the essence so screwed.

He gave out a sigh. He walked over stains that could not come out in this special metal so well. It would certainly mark the day in which the Warsaw Pact spilled the lives of, and were spilled of their own lives from the Hegemony. In return for these lost lives? He could see the extra security guarding him...and he sighed again. He would not be allowed to leave Earth now that it was in Civil War.

In history, the American Civil War had been bloody, but not overly so due to the distance between the two aggressors. In the French Revolution, thousands were killed in the name of revolution rather than any actual fighting. The actual fighting would be a result of the extreme government set up under such conditions. In the Russian Revolution, millions died. Between Bolsheviks and the communists, even foreign nations became involved after World War I.

He watched himself from a third aspect, an ethereal form of himself floating alongside as he walked down the stained hallways. Watching as he turned corners, in these tiny cramped hallways, he walked. And where he headed it became certain, the dock. Also like a Sailor of the Old World. He was however, not exploring a new world beyond the ocean's horizon. He was returning to the home port, and fighting the same old same song battle.

He was not surprised when time came to, he was in the dock, and there stood as he had expected the hatch to a small ship. Not the new kind that traveled faster than the speed of light in such little pockets of jumps. It was the kind of homeward bound ship. He watched the military officer...a colonel by the look of him, but who knew with all the stains...he could have been a captain yesterday...or a lieutenant the day before.

He dismissed the officer with a bit of a glare...he was feeling angry at being picked up again by the man who had wielded him, in order to sate his lust for his own freedom and utopia. But it drained of him. The officer was just following orders, much as the entire armed forces did. They were all innocent...compared to his crimes...to his sins.

Sailors in the olden days, traveled by using the stars. They had gazed up at these twinkling distant balls of fire and light, and used their shapes to determine their own location in the heavens, and on the earth.

Sailors...probably had the worst occupation amongst all of the occupations in the olden days. They were to sail all parts of the year, only enjoying the finer things in life when they reached port, and their life was constantly in threat of extinguishing.

Soldiers, at least they weren't fighting year round. Farmers, at least they weren't at risk of death every trip they made to the next city or town. Merchants, at least their robbers might end it with a stab or slash. No...sailors got the short end of the stick. The short end that slipped out of their hand every time they picked it up, bounced off their boots, and poked them in the eye.

But he found great solace in where he found himself among the heavens.


	3. Ship EarthBound

Weightlessness, directionless, hopeless. If you weren't weighed down you'd drift off into nothingness. If you weren't sure which way to go...you were lost. In this shuttle, only one thing was certain. Direction. There was no weight...and so little hope it counted for naught.

The kind of lack of hope that caused men to grow depressed and insane. The kind of lack of hope that stirred a well of self-pity in man's heart. It was sad to see people go through such circumstances, it was perhaps worse to go through it yourself.

Ender watched the stars move so slowly in little patterns only really that he was the one moving. A blue hued ball...that was no breath taking...and yet it instilled only nervousness in Ender. What could he help? He was a thirteen year old boy...who in any normal case in need of his mother...as emotionally he was still tied down around the age of six. He understood his jeesh had been collected up as well. All but three were headed into the Hegemony. Russia, China, and Alai to no country were all in too improbable areas to effectively steal in the night.

He was alone...and perhaps...he had always been alone.

All around him was nothingness. He was in a vacuum for his own experiment. The age old test of how long man can repress his emotions before they snap and lash out. Thus far, Ender had endeared twelve such years. From his birth, to the now. The shuttle was simple...delegated to transport materials. Things the Warsaw Pact wouldn't even think to harass so early into a war. If the lines held as they were...the dividing line was in Europe. The Americas belonged to the Hegemony, and Northern Asia, along with eastern Europe to the Warsaw Pact.

History had had such a combination before...divided on the middle of Europe. The Cold War...it had been called. No actual gunshots...revealed to the public anyway...but their were deaths and schemes enough to make up for any 'no-shot' war.

He dismissed the thoughts as the Blue Orb in his view came closer, and closer, and closer. Past Luna, they sailed, and ever onward it seemed to Earth. And thoughts assailed his mind about the Formics...the Buggers. His sin...probably the greatest sin or crime among any man in history. And he was the cause of it. Not only the cause, but the weapon...and in some aspects, the hand.

Finally, the Earth was all you could see...the clouds swirling in a rather grayish violent manner as far as you could see. Such an appropriate manner the Earth had in its way of showing the turmoil on the planet now. The Americas...that was his destination...the first time he had been on a planet in...six years. Half his life. It filled him with a sense of...dread. He wanted dearly to see his family...but did he deserve them...when he had killed trillions...or billions of lives.

Now a reddish glow...a sense of weight that had been lost six years prior. Yet...it the work he had done...it felt like nothing really. Certainly not quite as much as he had felt before...from his memories? He was returning home...and a tool was needed for this war.

Man has always tried to fill the voids of his own heart, by expanding his borders. To add to the matter...man has felt that void no matter where he goes and no matter he does...it always seems to return. So...he made things faster, reduced the world in size by the time it took to travel, to colonize, to kill. Things had to get faster, to ignore the period in time of the void. Of nothingness. Of space...the vacuum. He found himself in the New World, the Pacific, the Arctic, the Moon, Mars, the Asteroids...and now he was traveling hurtling along towards graveyard planets.

But...he had done the same for the New World with the natives, the Pacific with the natives, with the Arctic, with the natives, the moon...with the rocks, and Mars with its barely alive organisms. They were now headed to live on a separate world entirely...filled with the unburied graves of the natives.


	4. Arrival on Earth

Lights flashed, words lost meaning in the foray. The Hegemon himself...Peter Wiggin was welcoming back...his brother. Andrew 'Ender' Wiggin. Ender stepped down from the shuttle only moment ago, only to be assaulted from the left and from the right by questions and thoughts, and opinions.

It was...his brother...the tormentor of all people who had come to his rescue...and played the whole thing as a press conference. Ender could barely keep up with the foray. But he stood shoulders stiff, chest pushed out, tight lipped. He looked like a returning general fresh from the end of a victorious war...and yet truthfully...he felt like a murderer straight from the crime scene.

"Tell us Ender, how do you feel about the Formics?" came a question from the massed crowd...and they all shushed. Even Peter understood that this was a defining moment in history. He could not avert this question...his brother would have to answer it. And the question was easily met on even terms.

"When I was a little kid, before..." he paused to consider if he even wanted to talk about this...but he pressed on, "before I was ever sent to the Battle School. I was a third...a nobody. A kid with his machine still attached to him at six. The Buggers didn't matter to me...I was a child." He paused again to breathe...defining how one feels so young is difficult no doubt. "However...having done the battling I have done...and the...commands...I have given...I can say no more than I pity the Buggers." And he presses his own set of thorns into everyone side, "For if no other reason one could possibly imagine...then because their last moment...was defined in a surprise death...their atomic structures reverberating off each other and into complete annihilation."

The press was silenced. The very person who had done the deed...had denounced the finishing off of the Buggers. It was a bad thing to say...at least for the Space Fleet, and the Hegemony...not to mention the Warsaw Pact. Many might seriously question now if xenocide had been the answer. With such silence, Ender took it as his cue to walk off...and was escorted to transportation immediately.

Of course this would be a major change in opinion about Ender in the long run. He had of course in the normal time line been the best he could be...and not care for others opinion really. But it didn't change the fact that his name became taboo to people. Ender the Xenocide. Now...people might at least question it from his side of the story.

Peter stayed behind to give some good public optimism for the press and left son after as well. But the press...and therefore once presented to the masses...the masses themselves, could only wonder why two brothers would be leading their third world war. One who clearly denounced everything that dealt with war...and thus branded as a hypocrite by the masses, and one who was leading half of the world's major powers.

As it were however, the masses follow the heads. They may not agree with the head of their body, but they follow it none the less. Thus Ender had started the conditioned war movement. It was the atypical movement/radical group that divided itself on the halfway marker. No war unless it was absolutely needed. But the movement would be lost within the decade as a side note. It was lost when a historian pointed out a Union General by the name of McClellan...giving several points that war unless absolutely needed was the same as being too cautious.

However, coming back to Ender. He had done something unwittingly. He had usurped his brother's power in one blind moment of pity. The crowd didn't want war at this time...they wanted peace. And while the older brother instigated action...Ender instigated anything that wasn't war...but it wouldn't turn that way either way. Ender was within a few days placed as the Supreme Commander of the Hegemony forces.

A General to his Men. The leading Head to the Body. His thoughts, his opinions, his actions, and everything naught...are recorded in history, memory, mind and body. He is the person people follow for action. He is the person where they turn to for action. The person who is sought for when action presents itself. But he shows them a way of life. A General to his Men no longer becomes a person, wholesome and truly human. He becomes a symbol. A symbol to represent a way of life people can live themselves.

When a General falls...if he has left a legacy behind him...and it has a great enough mass...like a star that fades into a black hole...everything comes to it...and it becomes one of the great intangibles of life. No way of escaping the fact...no way of discerning it from thought. It becomes an unbridled thought...as the masses follow a different symbol in the meantime...even if they were themselves of a different symbol...a former symbol.


	5. Returning Home

So what if the Iron Curtain was at a stalemate? So what if the war in Alaska and Kamchatka both was heavily tolling on the world's people. It was easy to see where the world stood...even the danger zones stood out clearly. The danger zone in the Bering Sea was the obvious one. The danger zone in Middle Europe...running down the eastern shores of old Denmark, down the old German-Polish border, splitting Austria in two and slipping around the slavic nations of Crotia and Bosnia and Slovenia.

The same problems as the historical Cold War vexed both the Hegemony and the Warsaw Pact. The Warsaw Pact was expansive and generally cruel in its subjegation, with Vlad doing as much as possible for his nation. While the Hegemony had to deal with the neutrality of the Space Forces, with which they had held a trump card over the Warsaw Pact...though that wasn't and old problem really.

Ender found himself in New York, New York. Where he was commanding the expansive forces of the entire Hegemony. Thus far intense fighting over the Aleutian Islands had taken place. As well as bloody street for street fighting in the sieges of Hamburg, Breslau, Vienna, Bucharest, Sofia, Belgrade...just about every capital in Eastern Europe. Both side were spreading to the two remaining continents that had thus far stayed out of their reach.

Ender was 15...just three years after his arrival back on Earth. In that time he had not seen his...unless you counted Peter...which didn't count for much for as few words passed between them as possible.

Africa wasn't too much of a trouble...well...Western Africa that was...even Southern Africa was easy enough for sides to be chosen. But it was those closest to the Middle East...one of the danger zones not inspired by the fighting between the two...but by the absolute will of Islam to stay out of this World War that kept Egypt, Libya, and Sudan out of the bloodbath. The Caliph there, had made sure to keep Islam out of the fighting...for no Jihad was needed in this fight...if the infidels were to kill themselves off instead.

Australia and Oceania had the easiest choice, Hegemony...for those were the nations that had always supported them. Mind you, the Warsaw Pact a pretty interesting offer because they desperately needed to have some thorns in the Hegemony's side. But alas, a rift in ideology would separate them from ever being in the range of the Warsaw Pact.

So there Ender found himself...for three years now...directing this war at which no side seemed destined to win. It reminded him of another war...in the United States, called the Civil War. The North, (Warsaw Pact)...had more population...and could easily replace their fallen soldiers. And yet the South, (Hegemony)...had far superior leadership...which decimated the Northern troops with strategy. Though this version of such a war, had the Western Theater with no Grant to possibly choke off the Hegemony...while the Eastern Theater had a Pope and Burnside to blindly charge it seemed at times, and lose ridiculous amounts of men in casualties.

His own good friend Bean...found himself in a battle struggle over the island of Sicily. He browsed over the videos of the action front again and again. But his curse of Brilliance against the Buggers didn't seem to help him against his own fellow human beings. He had lost his will to kill...so much blood already stained his hands...so much of it not even red.

But alarms went off and he raised hs weary eyes to look at the message that came across...and he sighed in relief. Belgrade had fallen...his Seventh Army was pushing through the Balkans...and without the forced presence of the Warsaw Pact in a major Balkan power...it would inspire more people in the area to rise up.

He sat up straight and read over the report the commander had sent...nothing new...Russian forces in charge of Northern Slavic forces...and the recent addition of Chinese forces using their numbers to overwhelm the Hegemony troops.

Ender found himself tired and resorted to sleep for awhile. It was no use waiting for reports awake. In his sleep he found the solid nothingness he wanted...and needed so much. He slept for how long he might never know...but he awoke to sounds of alarms and rubbed his lazy eyes as he looked over the reports. And he found he had a heart...as he felt it constrict tightly in his chest...the divisions in Sicily had been beaten back...the Western most Warsaw Pact forces had taken the island...and Bean was captured. He found a side of him he had only faced three times before...come forth in his mind...and like wildfire it inspired thought in him...the Brilliance he had used to end lives.

He brought keyboard up to him to send in his command...divert forces guarding the rear to blockade the island, invade from the south, not the east...and drive the forces up to the ancient city of Palermo...and drive across the beaches to the close land bridge between the mainland Italy and the island of Sicily...and use the garrison troops of Naples to block off any escape while Naples enjoyed a short time off from martial law.

For an hour he typed similiar awe inspiring commands. The Aluetian islands would laucnh their own invasion to Sakhalion...to bring the much needed relief to Japan. Then...instead of attacking Kamchatka closest to the Alaskan Pennisula...drive up across the Sea of Japan and form a beachhead...a serious invasion of Russian-Chinese lands to divert troops from the Western front...then sending the remaining Western Theater troops to the closest part of Kamchatka to Alaska after most of the forces there have headed south to drive off the beachhead...which would spend time only to fortify its position and a few airfields, to further confuse the enemy, making them think this is the real invasion. But while those troops are being squashed on Sicily, or pulling back some million men from the Eastern Theater to aid the Western Theater, the Eastern Theater Armies press up from Hegemony Africa into the Aegean Sea and cut off troops there to push up with the newly acquired Balkan forces.

It was a Brilliant plan...and when he was done typing it...he felt sick...so very sick...a nearby officer catching him in time to receive today's lunch re-served, express line esophagus.

Ender found himself a few days later waking to faces that seemed so bright and familiar...and yet he could not recognize them. He wanted to say...he thought they were...but...could they be?

Both of them enveloped him...him of all humans...in a hug that meant so much undying love. Unconditional...as the love from...parents are.

They openly wept a little at seeing their youngest child...after nine years...home again in their arms. And there beside them...behind them...close by...his sister and savior it had always seemed, Valentine, and she spoke words he longed for, "Welcome home."

It does not as a surprise that men...after seeing their brothers die...their families burn...their cattle raped...desire...just to return home...to the few faces they have left from memory. That after they have thrown aside their humanity to fight for what they believe in...they only desire home...and an easy life.

Your average soldier...if he fought for six years of straight fighting in the midst of battle...and somehow survived. He had probably killed more men...then some ancient cities had in population. A number around 1,000...to if he had better technology...to 10,000. If he piloted a bomber...around 100,000...to better a million...with the cities he had set ablaze. If he were your common...household guy who pressed the red button...and silos would open up...he had killed more men in six years...than had died in 100.

So if you theorized a man...better yet...just a boy...who had fought, longer...and commanded the men who killed...could you imagine the guilt he places on himself, for every man he sends to kill...and thus be killed in return. Whom had set out...if unknowingly...but all the same...set out and destroyed more living beings...than had been killed in a 1,000 years...how do you live?

He was a soldier returning home...for the embracing of his humanity...to strengthen his resolve...and remind him...he wasn't alone.


	6. Time Skip and Romance?

Two years. It had been a solid two years since that fateful day when Sicily had been lost...and had been recaptured. His Brilliant plan had worked...as a distraction to save his friend, Bean. His beachheads remained on Kamchatka...and Sakhalion was theirs. Some ground had been lost so they were fighting on the Polish Plains now...and fighting hard in the Romanian mountains. Any African fighting had been lowered down to the Congo...and the plains of South Africa. The Islamic world had dared either side to enter their follower's lands...and in turn the entire Islamic strength would bear down on them.

The world was split in three...much like Medieval Europe had been. Catholics vs. Orthodox vs. Islam. Only now Orthodox was Communism, and Catholics were Democracy. So in a way...the three-way fighting/cold shoulder was Democracy vs. Communism vs. Islam.

I wonder which one had changed the most...and for that matter...which represented the older section. Did Islam from the past necessarily mean Islam of today? Did the Democracy fit in with Orthodoxy...or catholics? They resembled each other...but it didn't seem to fit perfectly...or too well.

He had spent around two months with his parents and sister...it had reminded him so much of those little memories he barely contained of when he was six...to his first memory...around when he was four. Two years he had memories to call upon for how to be human...and he had ten now for how to be a murderer.

He sat at his same old screen looking over reports...but they had moved his station closer to where his parents lived...in case he had another mental breakdown. Which would've made his third breakdown by the time he was sixteen. Losses now ranged in the low millions. The opposition he knew from rough body counts lay in the middle five millions. Just because they had China and now half of India following behind the cause. The other half was staunchly for Islam to take up arms against the two sides battering each other.

It wasn't long when he got a report that the Islamic world was uniting under a Caliph. They had their eyes on India and Southern Africa. Both would be gigantic losses for both sides...with the Communists soon to be running adry and needing to bring up the draft to keep their army ranks filled with bodies for the grinder. The Hegemony from his many reports would need a draft sometime soon. A conscription he had said must be limited between the ages of 20-35. Any more and the government would lose favor with the people...any less and they wouldn't have enough.

So...the Islamic world have to be considered a threat now as well? They would have even more soldiers than the communists. With every able bodied man fighting...and to himself he reminded, _Every_ able bodied man. He had seen the histories of the Jihads of past...and the sheer size of the Islamic armies proved there were more than trained soldiers amongst their ranks.

What was his plan? His plan? He thought...over the little quirks of the raging battles...and he had an idea...it might work...it just might. He started typing again...much like he had two years before...with the brilliant plan of his.

Fortify South Africa. Make sure there are plenty of troops...plenty of reconnaissance planes and men to give the first warning of an invasion on the lookout. Let the communists start conscription first to use propaganda that they were becoming desperate...and to start soon afterwards with the message that if their boys were going to kill...then our men were going to teach them how not to kill...but how to die. The beach heads in Kamchatka...would pretend to be pressing to break out...and to drive towards a transport stop of any kind in Eastern Russia.

When done typing he got out of his seat and stepped out of his office into the hallways of Central Command...the heart of the Hegemony war effort. Not only was it the heart that pumped the much needed blood to the many limbs that killed men for the heart...but it was the Brain as well...where his brain...and pretty much his brain alone carved history out of flesh and bone. Out of steel and bullets.

There he was struck with a sight he had seen...and yet had never seen quite of its like before. He thought his mother was a beautiful woman...and that his sister, was growing into one as well. But there...staring at him much as he stared at her, was a girl. He could tell...from the patch on her upper arm that she was a volunteer...probably for filing, or getting coffee. Menial tasks that officers couldn't seem to find to do these days.

They stood there...and found themselves in a trance. Her red hair caught his attention. It was wild and free...and he could tell it represented her well when she opened her mouth to speak, "I'm sorry...I didn't mean to interrupt sir."

He nodded dumbly...what was he to do? To say? He had heard tips from Bean about Petya. How girls in the military were wild freaks. But it didn't mean he had much experience...his only experience...being when he had seen Petya naked in the barracks. "Its quite alright miss," he hoped for some reason his voice didn't scare her off...it had been becoming hollow since the near death of his friend Bean. How lucky his voice was then I suppose that the missile had landed yards away.

She looked as if to say something about his voice but thought better of it...besides...he was rather cute...gaping at her like an innocent child. "Would you like some coffee?" she asked almost demurely...so as to not scare him away.

He thought over it...and despite a good dislike of coffee found himself agreeing, "I would...how about four?" he says looking at his watch to make sure of the time. She agreed and they walked off from each other. How was either to know this little coffee incident would lead to more? How could they?

The old world powers of medieval times, the three religions...Orthodox...the remaining part of the old Christian world under Roman power. Catholic...which was the reigning power in Western and some parts of Eastern Europe. And Islam...a collection of thoughts and details that stretched thousands of miles across the globe.

These powers which had formed the tripod of power struggles for 500 years...were now revived...two in new forms...and the youngest of the religions...still in its ancient form as close as it could be.

Powers which had raged for cities such as Jerusalem, Rome, Constantinople...what were these three? The center points of religion...power...and trade.

At the same time...can you not imagine a boy meets girl moment? Somewhere...as long as you don't push it...someone will be waiting across the veils of time when you meet them...to one day to love and to hold...to cherish and to embrace. Whether your orientation is straight, or bi, or not existant at all...couldn't you find yourself being pulled to someone? Anyone? As humans are we not naturally inclined to seek comfort from others.


	7. Nukes

It had been weeks since he and Alice has met. She was a girl from a small country town. One of the last few ones in America. She had a bit of a southern drawl to her voice...but it had been stamped out in her year and a half working for the military. She didn't have much of a clue as to what he did in the military...but she had gotten the picture that whatever it was he didn't like talking about it much.

Spending some time with Alice and his family had removed some of the gravel in his voice. But he noticed how they still winced from time to time when he spoke. Alice was different it seemed. Alice...she seemed to not be bothered by his voice at all. She had grown on him...much as he had noticed himself growing on her. She came from a bit of a troubled past. Her father was an alchoholic...and had in his disgrace a wife who despite the laws was an avid birthing woman. Now...there were some families in which one of the partners was sterile...and people like her mother would get themselves pregnant so the family could have a child. Her father...being as human as he was had boiled over one day in rage at his wife giving birth to other men's children...and ended those days...with shrapnel through her womb. And then shrapnel through his own skull.

The two of them at one point...just two weeks after meeting and having coffee...and spent the whole night, as it had been miracously both of their days off, spending the night together and talking till the sun had come back up. They talked about their life, their thoughts, and every little thing inbetween. For example, Alice learned that he had next to zero expierence with girls and kissing, just having a scholar's knowledge on sex. He had been so embaressed when he left...she had given him a small exam over girls...and kissing. He had never been so thrilled at returning to someone.

Despite the budding romance between the two...he devoted most of his time to the crisis the world was in. It had been his luck that after that night the world would be pulled even further into chaos. The Muslim nations...stretching between Libya all the way to the Indian plains. Had launched a massive invasion into the underbelly of the Warsaw Pact. In an emergency act...the Warsaw Pact had sought the permenant collection of all the nations within it to be one nation...whole and pure to quicken up the pace of defending themselves. In turn...the Warsaw Alliance was formed...and was making life difficult on the eastern european plains...where Hegemony forces were packed waiting for the Muslims to attack from the old city of Istanbul...and the rest of their forces were now spread thin waiting for reinforcements just holding their line against the resolved and neverending Warsaw soldiers.

Africa seemed safe however...with Rwandan forces savagely stripping miles of land from Sudan...and for some reason Algerian forces finding great pleasure in attacking Libya. Who knew why. He was amazed to hear some startling news...the Muslim nations had begun their offensive with two nuclear warheads into the Kunlun Mountains and the Caucusion Mountains. The Kunlun being a part of Western of China...now Warsaw Alliance. While the Caucusion Mountains were between the Caspian and Black Sea.

He could feel himself grow more and more tired of humans in general. It was simply becoming ridiculous. He swung his rolling chair up to his computer to type in his new orders. Send a representative to the Warsaw P...Alliance. Hopefully they'd see reason to end this war so that the Muslims could be dealt with over their use of nuclear weapons.

If they didn't it would be much like a book he remembered reading as a young boy. It had been called 1984. In which the world after the second world war had been gobbled up by America, Russia, and Japan. They existed with different names...but were in a constant state of war...and about every four years switching in whom they would attack.

In no way did he want to see the world consumed by three states constantly at war. He typed furiously...hoping that Peter didn't interefere with his plans. Peter had done one good thing as Hegemon in the past three years of the war. He had soon after the Warsaw Pact had united all their nations into a single nation, sent in the forms to do the same with the Hegemony. Which made up far more in territory than the Soviets did.

He heard a swish of the door and knew by the smell of cocoa who it was. It was someone who had been helping him relax...and sure to his thoughts he felt hands on his shoulders massaging the knots away. A soft voice pouring over his ears in a tune from her hometown. Something about someone named Dixie. He had never heard it in the very least.

He looked up to her fair face framned with her red hair and black brown eyes looking down at him and he could feel himself relax. The world was slitting it's throat...and she was making him feel like none of it existed.

The world bans the use of nuclear warheads for a very good reason. Two cities in 1945 suffered over 200,000 deaths in a single instant. Just two bombs and two historical cities were wiped off the face of the planet. Maybe four or five buildings left standing...all else leveled or just a mound. Thousands more would die in the weeks following...some would die years after from cancer and the like from the radiation.

Nuclear energy was carefully controlled after two incidents. Three Mile Island on the American coast had nearly exposed the region to nuclear radiation...if not for the very thick walls of the reactor. However at Chernoble...in the old USSR...there had been no walls. And many squares of miles even to this day were uninhabitable because of the exposure radiation. So by the age you find yourself in with Ender...it is not uncommon to think of nuclear energy, and most certainly warheads...as a thing most foul.

But on a happier note...when you can say the world doesn't exist in your thoughts with someone in your arms...then you've found love. No matter how naive you could be to not know what it is you've found.


	8. The Arctic Plan

Ender was swimming in a world he did not understand...and could barely comprehend. The alliance between the Warsaw Alliance and the Hegemony had failed utterly. To the point that the Eastern European troops had been sent all the way back to the old borders of Poland...nearly 100 miles away from their last position. The return opposition had been the complete hold over Kamchatka, and half of the Sea of Okhotsk. Even a smidgen of touch to the East Serbian Sea. Their forces were right on the edge of the Kolyma Range of mountains.

At the same time...the Muslim forces were pressing past the Caucasin Mountains, and slowly surrounding the Crimean Pennisula. The Muslim advance into the Chinese part of the Warsaw Alliance had been halted however.

Hegemony forces were poised on the old Greek border to make a mad dash for the Aegean Sea, which would serve as a resting stop before opening what would be considered a smaller front on the Eastern European Theater. Cutting off the massive Muslim force building in Istanbul.

Sudan had pulled its head out of its rear and barely held onto the land stretching east and west of Karima on the Nile and Port Sudan. Linya was also holding its own at its capital of Tripoli, stretching all the way down to Marzuq.

Alice was the life in Ender's heart by now. Five long years...and nearly 300 million dead. Bodies that littered Kamchatka, Eastern European cities and fields, the sands of the Sahara, and the banks of the Nile. He hadn't seen his sister, mother, or father in two years. He was 18 years old...and he was beginning to lose hair.

If just one of the fronts would break...the others would be relieved and the war might find an end. As it was...the Kamchatka Theater and the Sahara Theater seemed the only likely ones to break anytime soon.

No reports coming in...he found a solid two hours to sleep. Then he was needed again.

Much to the disappointment of many...the war was turning into another Great War. Much like World War I in fact. Troops were practically entrenched and barely budging. New weapons once used on the threat of the buggers...was now used on his fellow man.

He was positively delighted to see Bean...his good old friend...who was nearing the end of his life unfortunately...had captured Cyprus. Not much of a tactical move...but more of a thorn in the Muslim side. In return for the good news...he cracked a small smile.

When Alice came in to see him for the day...she noted he had already fallen asleep in his chair. Reports scattered around him...maps scattered around him...even a novel to pass spare time with. And there she noted a report typed...she didn't dare but a look because it had five stars blinking on the side...something heavily classified...and the few words she caught made her wonder just how much of a genuis her boyfriend could be sometimes.

She picked him up and slowly carried him, still getting used to carrying him to bed from time to time. In the distance behind her before the message was sent...the words blinked, '_Invasion through Arctic Region...into Kara Sea, into Barents Sea, into Laptev Sea.'_

A quick map check and she was sure of it. Her boyfriend had a brilliant plan in mind. Attack from the least hospital place in the world...to the most remote and unexpected front. A front that would stretch over a thousand miles.

War has always been considered from an Artic or Antartic point of view. If I really need the quickest way to strike my enemy without being obvious...where do I attack from? A place nobody else is.

The Artic considered a great plan for slipping from Old World to New World, or New to Old. And the Antartic...for slipping around great ocean territories.

Ender awoke awhile later in the arms of probably the best person he had met in his life. Her red hair around both of them as he was snuggled into her side. He noted with a dim buzzed thought that she had stripped them both of their clothes...she really was good at relieving stress.


	9. The Bloated Monstrosity!

Six long years now...and he was 18 as of a week ago. Felt nice...in a way. He was given the day off...which he spent entirely in Alice's company. The war was ending. The world had failed to find peace. Even as he thought about it...the Muslim nation was firing off Nukes...which were being shot out of the sky on both sides...but it was a dangerous game...just one to get through and millions of lives would be gone.

The Soviets and the Chinese were the last pieces to the Warsaw Alliance...and cracks were showing up in that alliance with the Muslim invasion of China again...tearing through the Kunlun Mountains and pushing towards the populated areas of the east. The Societs had broken ranks on the Eastern European front, the Kamchatka front, and even the Artic front. They were however pressing very harshly into the Muslim nation pressing into Iran and Afghanistan.

Meanwhile Hegemony forces and people around the world were looking in on the area as a riot of the human mind. They were not only pressing in on Moscow...but also swinging down close to Korea and Mongolia. The African forces were ripping through the arab beaches even as he thought. Australian regiments were landing in the very tip of Thailand pushing in on the Chinese forces there. The forces in the Balkans were sweeping through Turkey like Alexander the Great did with the Persian Empire...vastly outnumbered and yet winning victory after victory.

The Hegemony honestly viewed this whole thing as ridiculous. Every family had been affected...with 350 million dead. 275 million of that 350...were soviets and chinese and muslim. But that still meant 75 million had suffered death in the Hegemony armies and cities. He knew his brother was to the point of taking their own arsenal of nukes and blowing the whole world to kingdom come. In meetings his brother just looked red in the face...some lucky woman was getting pounded just so Peter could 'beat' out his frustration.

That thought brought him to Alice...sweet...sweet Alice. Not to mention the Crude and Cranky Alice...coupled with the Just Awoken Bat of Hell Alice. Or Shy and Bashful Alice. No matter what side she showed him...he was stuck...in love...with his coffee girl. Woman...excuse me. He was really into the way she roleplayed out their love making these days...his eye twitched...he needed sex and badly.

He understood now why his mother came from Mormons, and his father came from Catholics...and why both groups seemed to have so many children! Every child...is a blessing. Which Ender understood to mean, "Every child...comes from a special act that blows your mind."

He looked at the time and he was off duty. He had suffered five faintings from overworking before the arm reduced his hours from 23 to 16. He left a nice detailed report from flashing his security card around to leave and at home...his nice special apartment shared with his coffee woman...he took a quick shower and briefly wondered what time Alice would be arriving home.

It was at 11:00 p.m., that he heard the familiar click and swish of the front door...followed by the soft taps of his Alice's feet, the clang of the door shutting...and he found his wonderful countrygirl redhead in his arms. He could feel her tension and he looked down at her strickenly. He was a genuis for a reason...remote genetic manipulation not counting. She looked worried. He went through a list of things that would worry her at the age of 18...with a war going on consuming the war.

Her younger brother had been drafted? She had been hit on by that mailman? She was pmsing and doubted his love? She was pregnant? Hmm...tough choices...he rubbed her shoulders gently, "What is it?" he asked. His voice had deepened over the years. He wasn't a sexy beast...but...well...he was a fine specimen.

She bit her lip and finally barely whispered out two little words. What the words are are anyone's best guess. But she whispered two little words. His reaction was to grin and smile...and swing her in circles and circles and circles...laughing...and oh so happy.

She was pregnant...and this new life...may be just what it would take to get him out of his funk...even with the world blowing itself all to hell.

What is the mystery of a pregnant woman. What attracts us about a bloated, cranky, mood-swinging, horrible woman? Its because despite the negatives we feel...meaning us men feel from having to be tortured for nine months...is because of that new life.

Because of the kick that we feel knowing that in there...inside that bloated monstrosity in which we're not allowed to call fat...is a minature version of ourself. If its a little girl...we find ourselves in awe of this beautiful little angel. If its a boy we find the perfect vassal to carry on our legacy into their own legacy.

It sounds a little bad...bur that was how Ender found himself thinking that night in bed...rubbing the abdomen of his Alice. That was until he realized he'd have to marry her...and his eyes twitched more...the ball and chain! He sat upright in a cold sweat and found himself alone at the kitchen table...oh thank god...it had been a dream. Then he noticed it was 11:00 p.m. And he heard a click and swish...followed by soft taps and a clang of the door. And in came Alice...looking tense. A premonition? He fainted off to the side and thudded with the floor.

In the following weeks Alice explained she was indeed pregnant. A few commanders at the big HQ got their ears chewed off by said pregnant lady. The world would have to get a few dim reports as Andrew Wiggin dealt with nine months of torture. The world shuddered in fear. With the Hegemony forces winning and pressing in on capitals...they didn't even need him anymore.

Is this where 3,000 years of history rewritten ends? Of course not...we've only covered six years. DUN DUN DUN!!!


	10. Author's Announcement

**Author's Announcements:**

I know hardly anyone reads my profile (which wouldn't matter since it's out of date anyway), so I have posted these following announcements in all of my stories to let you formally know that I will be attempting to write chapters for most of my stories once again. I cannot guarantee anything, but I am most willing to make the effort.

That's the important part. Here come the details (your queue to leave if you want).

**Reasons Why I Haven't Been Writing:**

Well…geez, put me on the spot without time for cookies or milk. I haven't been writing mostly because of the combined dedications my life has required of me. In the time since I wrote _Memoirs of a Time Traveler_ I have done the following things, each further complicating my life as a burgeoning adult:

1. Began a polyamorous relationship.

2. Managed to get my girlfriend of five years pregnant.

3. Fought with the parents of the newest member of our 'Triad' in the Triangular relationship.

4. Finally given up the idea of trying to treat both of my girlfriends equal in public status and married my pregnant girlfriend (to avoid the evil state of Indiana's bureaucracy).

5. Had my mother-in-law move in to help us with bills.

6. Had a child whom we call Alex.

7. Managed to obtain a 35 hour job (which previously had been 20 hours since after #3 but before #4).

8. Have continued my undergraduate education throughout the entire process.

**Reasons Why I Will Begin Writing Anew:**

These are the reasons why I'm more optimistic about a renewed writing!

1. Resigned from my job since my boss is a douche and was probably going to fire me anyway.

2. Finals are over!

3. Looking for another job and taking care of Alex, but still plenty of free time from the additional hours (some 70 in my week) which have been freed up recently.

4. Because I hate to see 'abandoned' on my stories!

I look forward to presenting everyone with wonderful new material on old ideas. Let it be known, however, that not all of my lack of posting is from a lack of writing. I have written three chapters for various stories when my computer crashed around seven months ago. Don't blame me, blame the elves.

So, without further ado, I bid you welcome into a new age of writing by Ultimagu.


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